Like It's Her Birthday
by Disco Shop Girl
Summary: College attendees Emmett and Rosalie are home for the holidays. They've been apart for months now and Emmett has a plan... One-shot. AU, AH


Like It's Her Birthday

A/N: This fic has an adult rating for sexual content. Characters belong to Stephanie Meyer. Title belongs to Good Charlotte.

This is an earlier one-shot set in the same Alternate Universe as Gameday, though it is not necessary to have read that. Hope you enjoy it!

**Rosalie POV**

I slammed my car door hard.

"Careful there," my dad grinned, reaching over to ruffle my hair.

Oh no he didn't. I ducked out of reach before he could touch me. The dark scowl painted on my face turned angrily towards him and I defensively crossed my arms over my chest. Back off.

"College students aren't usually so sullen," my mother quirked to him over my head.

The scowl deepened. Did she want to go down that road? Was she implying I was too grown up for childish moods like this one? Because then we could discuss how non-Children got to make their own decisions. They get to choose their own friends. And boyfriends. In fact most people got to choose whom they loved. Lets be honest, that was really the issue here, wasn't it?

It was snowing, wet and cold – all in all very depressing. What better way to say 'Welcome back to Forks, Washington'? Where the weather will always get you down when you're already feeling heartsick.

I've been a college freshman for four months now and despite my hopes that leaving this dreary town would open up a whole new life of fun and adventure, it hasn't quite turned out that way.

The downhill slide started one very memorable day in very late August. That's when Emmett and I broke up. Actually more correctly, our relationship was ended – by an ultimatum from our parents who controlled all our college funding. Explore relationships with other people in college or don't go to school

Suffice to say that was the worst week of my life. I was forbidden from loving the person I confided everything in. This was the boy I spent the most fun six months of my life going out with. It also caused a rift with my parents that is still yet to heal.

Now I was back home for break, Christmas was a week away, my friends were in town, and where was I? Getting trashed at a house party? Partying with the kids I'd grown up with? Nope. I was at _my parents' _friends' pre-Christmas drinks.

Again, want to call me a grown up? Then let me go to my own parties. Let me hang out with my own friends. Jasper is _one year _older than me and he didn't have to come, don't think I didn't highlight that point in the car on the way over.

I tugged at the hem of the dress they point-blank told me to wear. It doesn't fit anymore, since apparently I've put on a few pounds in the last year. There's nothing like a bit of weight gain to really sour a bad mood.

I pouted as I skulked after them up the driveway, and barely quirked the corners of my mouth in a smile when Mom's friend Alicia Banner opened the door. She's actually very nice, and it wasn't her fault my parents were the font of all evil.

"Come in, come in!" she gregariously welcomed us, helping everyone with their coats and steering my dad towards the bar.

I saw Eric whats-his-names' family coming up the street behind us. Grreeeeeat. Didn't like him in high school, and I bet I still don't like him now. So not only do I get to spend the evening with my parent's friends, I also get to see people my own age I dislike. Wonderful.

This is going to be a lonnnnnnng night.

**Emmett POV**

Having a little sister can be a pain, but never more so than when you're already on edge like it's the first day of SATs and she pipes up with her own annoying little opinion.

"I wonder if anyone _our _age is coming to this party," she took a long, over-exaggerated look around the party.

I gave her a gentle shove, making sure to be careful. I was physically stronger than when I left in September and I did accidentally push her into the dining table yesterday. I'm still kinda stunned I could cause such a bruise.

Except for the damaging your sister thing, the physical strength was actually awesome. But more important than that was the fact that I was emotionally stronger too, and I knew it. Enough to be my own man.

I had a full scholarship and four months of being a carefree bachelor under my belt. I'd also started using my college-educated mind to craft a plan that my parents would completely disapprove of. Didn't give a toss about them though. I was completely committed to seeing this particular plan through to the end. It goes something like this:

1) Find Rosalie

2) Convince her to take me back

3) Fuck her.

Good huh? I was curious to see how my physical strength might add a new dimension to step 3. Now if the Hales would just drag her along to this party like our parents did to us, the plan can get underway.

I'd really like the plan to get underway. Nowish.

The front door opened again and I peeked around Mrs. Cope who was clinking champagne glasses and laughing with my Mom, to see who was entering. Bah – it was Mr. Banner's sister. Not Rosalie.

I was practically bouncing I was so eager to see her. We've talked on the phone over the last few months but it wasn't the same – she was distant and I was guilty. I have so many things I want to tell her about college. They're stupidly small but no one else really seems to get it. I have new friends I want her to meet, like Edward – I know she'll get how funny it is that he has my last name. I want to compare some of the awesome lecturers I've been assigned with hers – it's been killing me knowing she's doing psych as well and wondering how different it is. She will understand how cool it is to finally be on a football team with a decent coach.

My dad sidled up next to my mom and their bodies pressed together blocked my view of the door. I jumped, trying to see over their heads because a blast of cold air indicated someone else was coming in.

"Emmett!" Alice laughed. "Relax, she'll come."

She **will** come if I have anything to say about it I lewdly thought, grinning widely. I had a mental flash of one of the times we went "camping" last summer. Rosalie naked and riding me. We were up on the escarpment and had slept out in the open the night before. The fresh breeze and sunlight were catching her hair so it gently lifted and glowed around her, my girlfriend in the early morning sun. That is one of my favourite memories. It's a place my mind often wandered to when I was jerking off.

Apparently my mind had wandered off a bit now. Alice began tickling me to get my attention and I grabbed her in a headlock. While we were fooling around and my Mom came back over to chastise us about being responsible and mature, _she _slipped in.

And it took me two minutes to notice.

I was glancing towards the door again, over my Mom's shoulder because we were still being reprimanded, when I caught sight of her. She was standing with her parents at the bar, being handed a glass of fruit juice. I did a double take and then stopped and stared.

Fuuuuuuuck she looked good. Her hair was in a haphazard bun at the back of her neck, which I _knew _meant she'd made no effort and thrown it up at the last second. My gaze travelled down her back and the dress she was in accentuated – well – _everything_. Her hips were a little curvier and I got whiplash sliding over them. My palms pulsed, felt bereft and empty with wanting to cup the softness. Her ass looked damn spectacular and my cock helpfully twitched, clear on where it wanted to rest too.

She was wearing leggings so I couldn't see her bare legs but the ballet flats she was wearing brought the rest of my fantasy to reality. She wasn't wearing heels so she was a little shorter. When I had her against my chest, she was going to tuck in under my chin. When she does that, she fits absolutely perfectly into me.

"Sure Mom."

Alice stamping on my foot brought some of my attention back to my family. Not much I'm ashamed to say. Rosalie's eyes scanned the room, a look of bored anger splashed across her beautiful features. And then she saw me.

Her eyes widen in truly stunned surprise and I know she didn't consider that I'd be here. _Tough luck baby, time to come back where you belong._ My side aches right there, where she should be resting. I see her eyes flick over me, assessing as I do her. She's goddamn gorgeous as always.

I'm really done waiting. I glance at my Mom who is focused on Alice, not me, then back at Rosalie. I quirk my head towards the back of the house.

Rose looks to her parents, and I excuse myself to the bathroom.

**Rosalie POV**

My heart is pounding as I step out into the hallway. I don't see anyone and glance towards the bathroom. Is that where he went? I'm looking towards the kitchen, hearing the sounds of food frying, when fingers lace through mine. Long, thick fingers that are incredibly familiar because they've caressed every part of me. Before I can catch sight of him, the fingers tighten and I'm tugged off balance around a corner. A door shuts behind me. Startled, I look up, only to be crushed in Emmett's embrace.

As his arms wrap around me, I close my eyes and breathe in. My head spins with the smell of warm, clean Emmett. It makes me happy, that's the only way I can describe it. I press my nose deeper into his chest to fill my senses with him. Desperately my hands fist in the back of his linen shirt, trying to steady myself as I'm overwhelmed by how purely unadulterated his scent is.

I want to cry. I forgot how freaking good it is for him to hold me and now it's almost too much. His big arms are even more muscly than before and I disappear in his embrace.

"Hi Emmett," I tentatively say.

I hope he doesn't hear how my voice catches. _No tears, don't be vulnerable, you can do it. _

He takes a deep breath and lays his cheek on top of my head.

"Hi Rosalie."

His hand moves up to my shoulder and squeezes.

"Have you got a boyfriend?" he blurts out before I can even look up at his face.

_A boyfriend? When I still love you? When every doofus I meet is not silly enough and yet too stupid to live up to you? _I didn't know how much the insides of my arms have been craving the feeling of his touch, until now when I feel the way they're crying out in sensitive joy.

I shake my head, tightening my arms to squeeze him harder. No, no I haven't replaced him.

"Good," he responds.

His arms tighten too and I'm lifted up into the air. I squeal in surprise until he backs up a little and sits me down on a cold stone counter. It's only then I notice we're in the laundry room. My god his curls look startlingly black against all the white goods in here. I reach out and brush my fingers through them, delighting when they gently spring back into place. I've never met anyone with hair like Emmett's.

"So hopefully you won't get mad when I do this."

He leans forward and without much prelude kisses me. On the mouth, softly.

The desolate agony of the past autumn falls away. _My Emmett_.

I suck in a deep breath, the rest of my body frozen, hoping this isn't a dream. Feeling his lips moving tenderly against mine, I change. I heal, I become whole again. My Emmett's mouth. My Emmett's arms. My Emmett is kissing me.

I want to cry. I want to melt into a puddle of tears because his lips feel so good. So _fucking _good. Why did they not want us to do this?

My hands slide through all those dark luscious curls and grip him, holding him close. I kiss him back. Of course. And it's amazing, of course. We nip and suck at one another and I only crave him more. A single sound breaks the silence in the small room.

It's him murmuring very quietly "God, Rose."

I'm surrounded by him as he leans in closer and envelops me – in arms, lips, scent. All I feel, hear, smell, taste is Emmett. Sweet, fun-loving, rascal Emmett.

With the intensity of our mouths locked together, I realise he hasn't replaced me. I can tell from the way his fingers are grabbing at my back. And I think I'm in heaven.

A smile spreads over my face and I squeal again, this time in happiness. I extend my arms, threading them around his neck and tugging him into me. Mmm, he's very firm here. Who knew college could make someone Emmett's size even bulkier? As I have time to register the feel of his chest and arms I realise he's seriously been working out. Aren't I a lucky lucky girl?

The texture of his lips is the same un-fucking-believable softness. His hair is shorter, but it's cute, and I like it. The curls are shaved back close where the vertebrae of his spinal column begins and I trace down each of those hard bones. My fingers then gently run up and through the dark mass, massaging the back of his head. He likes that, I can tell by the way he sucks in his next breath.

Our lips move together more passionately, tentativeness quickly slipping away. After a minute I taste hummus and crackers as ours tongues brush together. The party snacks he was eating earlier. It's not offensive in any way – it adds a spiciness as I seek out the taste. Yearning to have him closer, I tilt my head silently and part my thighs, beckoning him to the part of my body where only he has had access. In the months we've been apart I haven't even sighted someone I would consider letting this close to me. When his broad hips glide forward between my knees I groan. And tingle. Oh yeah, _that's _what my man feels like.

My nipples get excited and flushed, reaching towards him for his touch. Wow, all of a sudden I remember that feeling, his fingers gently rubbing in slow circles, right over the eraser tips. The fabric of my dress becomes way too rough, my leggings as well. Damn it, I should have left them off, I could have him against my skin right now. I wriggle and clamp my knees tight around him.

That feels good.

He chuckles in response and grasps my thigh up higher around his waist, holding me close. He bends his knees and then pushes into me. Pushes me back further on the counter so he's bearing over me and we're chest to chest, hip to hip, thigh to – well around – thigh.

Ohhhhhh. I don't know if he meant to brush his zipper against me like that but damnnnnnnn.

His hand was bracing my waist but now he slides his big palm down a little. Rests on my hip. Which is a big fat erogenous zone when brushed lightly. Just like he's doing now. And he knows that. The first time we made love he had me all riled up just from stroking there, enough to submerge my anxieties beneath the firing nerves in that patch of skin. He could get me to do anything just by touching my hip.

He draws back a little to brush his nose along my jaw.

"I slept with two chicks at college," he huskily tells me.

His fingernails lightly drag up my sides, tracing the edge of my breast and I shudder uncontrollably. Then I take in what he said, and I freeze.

WHAT?

**Emmett POV**

My insides have been twisting up while I've been kissing her. Not in the good way I want but in a bad, painful, I-might-be-sick way. _That _is not the feeling I want when I'm finally kissing Rosalie for the first time in months. I know it's because when she hears about Lauren and typhoid-Mary-Tanya she's going to go mental.

I _really_ want to enjoy kissing her. I am touching her soft body and discovering that her boobs are a bit bigger, her ass a bit rounder and her moaning still drives a stiffening rod straight through my cock. I'm so sick of fantasizing to satisfy that fucker. I want the chance to sleep with my girlfriend and hear that she loves me.

Unfortunately the only way to do that with a clear conscience is to tell her about the roller coaster that has been the beginning of my college career. It accidentally slips out of my mouth, unedited, while I'm trying to think of the best way to tell her. In my defence, I'm distracted by how good she smells.

Like soap. It's so innocuous but emanating from her heated skin its rapidly firing legions of endorphins into my brain.

I'm running my fingertips over her fantastic tits when she goes stiff in my arms. Ahhh crap, I was hoping I hadn't said that out loud. Quickly I abandon her chest and squeeze her in my arms, holding on tight. She will try to get away before I can explain, and I _need _to explain. I need it to be ok, I need her to take me back, I just need her.

She's only still for a few seconds, then she plants her hands on my chest and pushes hard. I grunt as the air is knocked out of me but don't let myself lose my grip. No way are we leaving this room anything but reunited. She'll fight me over the other bitches, that's ok. I only need her to listen long enough so I can explain. The most important thing in my life right now is to hold on to her.

"I want you," I hurry to clarify.

"You jerk!"

I sense the knee lifting and just manage to avoid taking it square in the groin. She gets my thigh and it still hurts but the goods are protected. I wrestle her off the laundry bench and spin, pressing her up against the door.

"I can't believe you think I'd just be your fill-in holiday ho!"

As if! There will be no fill-ins ever again. I pull my head back, enough that she's forced to look into my eyes.

"And I don't!" I hotly fire back. "I stuck my dick in 2 other chicks, just like the parents wanted."

I never, _ever _want to see the betrayal in her dark blue eyes that I'm forced to witness now. I hate it. She practically crumbles when I say it so blatantly. And it's because of me.

"So now I'm done," I hurry to break through the devastation that is written across her features. "I've experimented, like I promised. Now I only want to be with the person I love."

She blinks and tears fall out of each of her glassy eyes.

"Which is you," I clarify, in case she didn't get that.

I don't think she'll try to bolt again because she's now in a kind of stunned quiet. I feel safe enough to lift my hands and rest them on her shoulders. I rub them down and back up her arms, desperate to soothe her.

I hate seeing Rosalie upset. And last time I saw her in August she was really fucking upset. Having to see this kind of devastation on the face of someone you really care about is how people become estranged from their parents.

To make sure that she understands I'm only for her, I press my lips to her forehead and don't move away. She starts crying for real and I feel hopeless. I'm a tool and I get it, but it's not fair that she has to suffer for it. At least she doesn't hit me this time when I put my arms around her.

"Don't cry," I try to be soothing.

It's really awkward and I wish I knew what to say to make it better. After all it's my fault.

"Please?" I quietly beg.

Her hand slaps my ass. Then she slips her arms back around me and rests her cheek against my chest. I sigh in heartfelt relief as she nuzzles me. Oh thank god.

"You'd better prepare to be faithful as a goddamn dog from now on," when she looks up at me her eyes are slanted in warning.

"Promise," I grin, very happy to agree to that.

Its what I've been trying to plan for the past two months anyway. I peck her on the lips to seal the deal.

She grabs my head and pulls me down to kiss me properly. In my excitement I wrap my arms around her waist and bend backwards, lifting her off her feet and spinning us around while she squeals.

I don't ever want to let her go – be apart during semester, or go back out to the stupid party. I want her in my arms, like this, kissing me, always. Since we're locked in this laundry room and no one's come looking for us yet, I do my best to give it a go. I spin her back onto the counter. Seat her fine ass down and _kiss _her. This time we seriously make out, no interruptions, no stopping. I can finally _touch_. I've completely ruined her lipstick but I don't care. She pops two buttons off my new shirt, and I don't care. I grind against her and she rubs herself all over me, eventually dragging me up to lie on top of her. That's the shit I care about.

"You were always supposed to be mine," she trembles for one precious, vulnerable moment while I'm determinedly placing a lovebite on her shoulder.

I'm about to agree when

"I'll get it!" Mrs. Banner's voice muffled calls out.

It's the only warning we have before the door behind us flies open. We hurriedly break apart, my feet landing on the floor with a heavy thud.

"Oh!"

I must look guilty as sin. I spin around with wide, unfocused eyes.

My Mom's friend is smirking – her gaze swapping between us.

**Rosalie POV**

"We just, uhhh."

I struggle for something to say to the woman who is smiling knowingly at us. Out of the corner of my eye I see Emmett reach up and not-so-subtly wipe my gloss from his top lip. Idiot.

Yet my fingers curl at my sides. The movement of his big hands has just reminded me that I was kissing him seconds ago. I was grasping his sides and feeling his leg press against my thigh.

I desperately want to slip my hand into his.

Mrs. Banner tilts her head towards the living room, smiling conspiratorially at us.

"Better get back to the party before they miss you."

Emmett stage whispers an eager "thanks." Then he grabs my hand and tugs me out into the hallway. He glances left, right, then slips his fingers under the base of my skull and leans down to kiss me one final time. His lips are powerful, devouring me and I whimper quietly. I can't help it. He's Emmett! And he's delicious.

When we pull apart he rests his forehead on my own. I fist his shirt, not wanting to let go. I want more.

In fact, why should I not have more? I reach up and peck his lips again.

Mrs. Banner banging around makes it clear we can't go back in the laundry room. In fact this party's probably not an ideal make-out scene. But I can think of a better one.

A calculating smile spreads across my face as I place my lips against his one more time.

"What are you doing after this?" I murmur.

"You, hopefully," he wickedly responds.

I squeak as his hands slide down my back and squeeze my ass. OH wow that feels good. I lick his lips, glad we're on the same page here.

"Can you meet me at say 11 o'clock?"

He raises his watch hand over my head and then whines "Rossssieeeee," after checking the time. "That's more than three _hours _away."

"Mmmm," I agree. "That gives me enough time for my parents to be done and drive me home. Then I can sneak out and drive up to make out point."

I'm referring to a car park about five miles out of town. It looks out over the Olympic ranges and at night it is very _very_ private. You can have your shirt off, your boyfriend inside you, and not worry about getting a glimpse of another human being. Suffice to say we've been up there before.

I actually feel Emmett twitch against my belly at the mention of it. His cock. That hasn't been sighted in four months. It makes me long to be up at that lookout now, alone with him. I could slide his zipper down and slip my hand inside the heavy denim of his jeans. I really wanna feel that big beautiful thing again.

"Awww man," he whimpers.

He tucks me under his chin, I assume so he can regain his composure. His breathing is staggered and he strokes my back for a little while until Mrs. Banner interrupts us again. This time she's coming out of the laundry room with a bucket. She raises an eyebrow at us, then stands there, waiting.

I sigh and disentangle myself from Emmett.

She actually follows us back out to the living room. I hear Emmett whisper "eleven o'clock" near my ear before we reach the doorway and part.

Oh yeah baby. I'll be there.

**Emmett POV**

Mrs. Webber is the one of two pharmacists in town, and apparently she pulled the late shift tonight. I contemplate not going through with my intent to purchase when I look in through the glass shop front and see her behind the counter. Then again, in twenty minutes, Rosalie is going to meet me. Alone, in the dark woods. And the promise of playing with those sweet lips again drags me out of my Jeep into the cold night.

It's pretty uncomfortable, and I pretend to look around, subtly grab what I need then dawdle as I approach the counter. I'm practically blushing as I hand over the black cardboard and a few greenbacks to the Minister's wife. She slips the big box of condoms into a discreet paper bag and is very professional about it.

She still knows. And she's like…my Mom's friend. It's so wrong.

I sprint out of the little store and rev the Jeep engine. My tires actually squeal I'm in such a hurry to get away.

I reach the end of the barely sealed road with five minutes to spare. There's a sickening amount of adrenaline pounding through me as I glance to the passenger seat. Beside my recent purchase is a letter from the on campus clinic, dated two weeks ago. It confirms that I absolutely do not have that damn bug inside me anymore.

Which leaves me in the all clear to be inside Rosalie if she'll let me. God I hope she lets me. I think if Mrs. Banner hadn't interrupted us in the laundry room she probably would have been already.

I glance around the five empty parking spaces – Rosalie's Dad's sedan is already sitting at the far end. The lights are all off but her platinum hair catches in my headlights and as I pull in beside her I see the drivers' door opening. I come to a screeching stop, barely controlling the steering properly because my hands are shaking with excitement. I yank the handbrake on way too hard.

She yanks open my door with ridiculously eager power and mindlessly tosses her keys towards my dashboard. In one fluid move she leaps energetically up onto the kickboard.

"Hi."

Her mouth covers mine before I can even unbuckle my seatbelt.

Sweet mercy she tastes like chestnuts. Warm, Christmas chestnuts. I am all about touch, I admit it, and I want more of her. It's been hours since we hooked up in the Banner's laundry and already I don't know how we lasted the first semester of college. My palms crave and I reach out, threading an arm around her waist and pulling her into me. Suddenly I _feel_. Every part of my body starts bombarding my brain, relaying sensation. I snake my tongue between her lips and devour her. A moment later I take a big gasping breath because I forget to breathe.

I clasp and grab and pull with my fingers, straining against my still-buckled seatbelt to get closer to her. She's bulky with her heavy winter coat on and it feels damn good to slide my fingers in under that sucker and touch the curves of her warm waist, trembling under my hands.

Emmett Cullen, welcome back to heaven.

The gates of paradise are grating open again and I can't get back inside fast enough. Her fingers slice into my hair – in one swift move she twists the curls around her fingers and gives a good hard tug. Ow! I groan unashamedly, subserviently, lapping it up. I move just as she demands because it feels _good_.

I'm so wrapped up in grabbing her to me that I don't notice one of her talented hands disappearing. A minute later I hear the click of my seatbelt releasing, then I'm free. I quickly slide out of the car, taking her sweet curvy body with me until my feet hit the crunching gravel. Then I give a good firm pull and bring her into my arms. Properly.

"Hi," I murmur, smoothing her long hair back by feel.

I can't take visual input right now, it's already too much, so I squeeze my eyes shut tight. And try to settle my oncoming erection as my woman's irresistible weight rests along my body. I feel her smiling, her lips curving up against the base of my throat. She burrows into me a little and leads "it's cold."

I consider just standing here all night, holding her against me. Warming her up with the sheer furnace that is my high-metabolic-rate body. I rest my cheek on top of her head and try to bask. Girl I love, in my arms, and smelling like heaven is worth taking in. There have been many long nights when a memory like this would have seen me through.

She makes a contented little sighing sound and nuzzles. Then she shivers. And finally slides her hands down to cup my ass.

My eyes pop open and I nod eagerly, understanding the silent command. Horizontal. Naked. Now.

Fumbling terribly in my excitement, I manage to get my hand on the door handle that will give us access to the back seat. Which is why we drove up here in the first place – quiet time – _private _time. The latch springs open and with it access to the best makeout space ever. It's seriously hard to believe my parents didn't foresee what I wanted this car for when I started dating the hottest girl in school. The point is I got it, and for the better part of senior year I was laying Rosie in the back of this Jeep.

I'm so ready to rediscover that particular activity. I hold her hand above my head and twirl her around like a ballerina, watching her hair fly in a quick circle. On the way round I catch her waist in my hand and rub the roundness of her hip. I have to take a deep breath and settle my nerves because _fuck _she feels so good. When I've got it under control I hoist her up on that spacious bench and inelegantly scramble in after her. Our limbs are everywhere.

My balls tighten at the sight, her gloss smeared, her coat hanging open and her chest heaving with laboured breaths.

Oh this is so gonna happen.

Tug the door closed. That's the only practical thing I can do before I get on her – trap the warmth. There's a tank full of gas which will provide more than enough heat for the next few hours. Lets face it, we're going to need it. Because we're going to start getting naked and we're going to stay that way.

Rosalie can be vulnerable, I know, I've seen it. I've held her crying in my arms for an hour while we try to say goodbye. But visits from that emotion are few and far between. Since I'm sure my face betrays every lustful urge in my body, she knows I'm a sure thing tonight. Which is awesome, because she doesn't hesitate at all. She clambers into my lap, settles her bare thighs over mine and pushes me up against the window. Bearing down on my mouth and fucking kissing me how I like to be kissed. Hard and practiced and _so damn _wet.

I get right into it, tracing her smooth shoulders with my fingertips and sneakily pushing her jacket off as I go.

The dress she was wearing before is still on, a clingy woollen fabric that moulds to her round girly assets. I am a big fan of those – they're all very soft and squeezable and she has no problem at all with me groping her. Which I do. I'm eighteen and she has massive tits that fill my sizable hands, there's no getting around that. Her out-and-out moan when I feel her up tugs a spring in my belly that's connected to my cock.

In a desperate attempt to distract myself I dive deeper into her mouth and try to move elsewhere. The stockings she was wearing before are gone. Which means as I distractedly run my hands up and down her thighs, to draw her around me, I'm touching bare, naked, Rosalie skin.

No underwear. Shit, I'm closer to being inside her than I thought. She whimpers softly and grinds back into my hands

"Damn you're sexy woman," my eyes bulge, palms curving over her spectacular ass.

"Well you turned me on and then we were interrupted," she reminds me breathily, lightly simulating the sex act that's coming as she undulates up and down.

Geez baby, like I don't remember. I've been trying to live this scenario in my head for the last four hours and now we're here I'm not going to last.

We shut up and kiss. Her tongue in my mouth, her lips moving like crazy, her perfect damn body pressed all over me. It's amazing.

Enough is enough. If she wants foreplay to gee her up she needs to stop being so sexy! There's not much restraint left in me. I need to do it now!

I quickly grab her head and waist in my hands, to keep her pressed up against me and kissing me. Then I press forward, lowering her kick ass body to the seat under me. Shit I love Rosalie under me. I don't go for finesse or subtlety. I break free of her mouth, gasping, and incline my head. It's crass but I suck her nipples through her dress. They're popping up to greet me so I take her up on the offer.

Do you know what it's like to have these hard beautiful babies in your mouth when you've had Lauren A-Cup and Tanya doesn't-feel-a-thing recently?

Heaven. Literally heaven. I'm talking about tasting every ripe fruit growing in the paradise garden – All. At. Once.

I'm salivating like a goddamn dog and to make it even hotter she's gasping and tugging my hair.

One particularly hard pull reminds me that I needed to tell her something. It takes a whole lot of restraint to take my mouth off that sweet homeland and even then I'm still looking at the wet spots I left behind. Craving.

I don't shift my bulky weight off her as I try to drag my gaze to her face.

She kinda likes me weighing her down. I know that from experience. She tries to play it off but I feel the way she squirms and tugs and sighs. The _fuck-me_ hazy look of lust in her eyes screams she still likes my body pressing her down.

"What?" she breathily demands when I pull back.

She's scowling up at me all rumpled with her gloss now smeared across her face and neck, and her hair sticking in every which direction.

I forget what I was about to say and press my hips forward involuntarily. She presses back. _Fuck_. I go to pull my fly down and the thought of my cock being let loose to enter the holy land stops me.

Oh yeah.

"I need to show you something."

Like a fricking acrobat I reach around into the front seat and grasp the piece of paper I've been carrying around all week. I leave the condoms for now. Don't want to be too presumptuous in case she refuses to sleep with someone like me.

I hand her the letter, then prop myself up on my elbows and watch.

"What's this?" she asks, unfolding it.

She reads the first few lines and her eyes widen. I watch anxiously, helplessly moving my ass in small circles. Pressing against my fly and Rose right there, is such sweet, sweet promise. _Soon _I promise my poor bad boy the action he's craving.

She keeps reading and suddenly splutters a laugh.

"One of those _whores _the parents so desperately wanted me to try out nearly broke my cock," I synthesise, scowling.

I rub my pelvis more firmly against her, letting her feel said cock and how it's definitely not broken anymore.

"Emmett that's so fu-funny," she's gasping with laughter as she reads on.

She grasps my shoulder to steady herself in her mirth and I turn, eyeing her hand lustfully. The fingers squeeze and in time, I thrust. Try to concentrate.

"Well it is funny now that I'm alright but for awhile there it was painful!" I complain.

Tears gather in her eyes she's laughing so hard. I roll my eyes and give her time to get it out of her damn system. When it seems she's starting to tail off, she looks up at me with deadly seriousness.

"Serves you right for sticking _my _dick into a cheap ho."

Her hand slips down between us until a gentle curling from her fingers cups the appendage in question. Oh yes. Oh yes yes yes yes _YES_. There. Baby. Please.

"Do I need to sign 'property of Rosalie' so they keep their hands off or do you think you can manage to protect the goods from now on?"

My eyes are rolling back in my head as she caresses with light, squeezing movements.

"The letter proves I'm clean," I stutter. "It'll stay that way. P-promise. I didn't want you to get mad at me when you found out later."

"So just like a health class video you're keeping your next partner informed?" she giggles, tossing it to the floor and raising her wicked eyes to me.

Raising her thigh too. Letting me press against it.

"Partner," I repeat the word, trying to get a hold of the thought.

Rosalie means sexual partner, in that clinical sense. I'm looking down at the person I love, her dark violet eyes glittering up at me with evil enjoyment. I'm feeling her wet-dream body rolling in gentle waves beneath me, and getting goosebumps from her amused laughter. I'm with the person I have been wanting for four months.

"Right, partner," I confirm. I'm thinking of another meaning. Something more permanent in a I'll-be-with-you-forever way.

But now is not the time to consider that truth. This cock is dipping this single pussy from now on, and that's all that matters.

"So do you still…?" I trail off, trying to give her an out.

I'm pretty sure I can't move from her hand on my cock. It feels so jerk-off good that I'm at a complete loss to do anything but rub against her. Even now I know I'm going to be reliving this moment, pretending my hand is hers when I'm back at college in a few weeks.

She looks up at me oh-so-innocently and helpfully offers "want to flip this seat back so you've got a flat bed and traction to ride me hard?"

Glorious Rosalie thighs spread and with gravity I naturally fall between them. In the fuck-tight valley of happiness that welcomes the king home from his adventures in far off lands, and promises a big feast of all the succulent fruits to celebrate his return.

Get me a goddamn crown.

Two confident hands slide up and take possessive fistfuls of my hair to which I, of course, submit. There is no concept of denying her, and controlling need starts tugging me down. The last thing she says before our mouths meet is in answer to her own question about me fucking her.

"Yup!"

**Rosalie POV**

I have never felt more like a woman than I do right now. It's the longing between my legs that snatches control from my logical brain and pours all my bodily resources into sensitising my nipples and juicing up my thighs with wetness. He's too close. It's impossible to stay this close and not be joined with the master of all pleasure when only a few layers of cloth cause the separation. My vagina wants it. To seize and ride that arrogant maleness into limp submission.

Who knew jeans and a sweater could cause utter male perfection to transform into irresistibly sexy?

I grasp his muscular hips with my bare thighs and try to pull this steaming bulk of manhood closer.

Even with all my strength, it's still not enough. I violently kick off my flats and dig my bare toes into his mighty tight ass. Writhing with all my might I just can't get him to hit the right spot. I know why.

My nipples are like zipper-tabs – sticking up and begging to be tugged, ready to open me up. And it may not be escaping from me yet but _down there _I'm more than ready. As soon as he splits me he's going to find out just how much honey gets stored up in four months without the big bad beekeeper.

There's only one thing that will assuage me, and he's goddamn lucky it's got a clean bill of health.

"Babe you'd better have protection," I whimper as I feel it starting to get hard against his zipper.

He groans in agreement and plants his mouth on the base of my neck, sucking hard. Oh. Wow. My vision blurs and I shake involuntarily. He not-so-gently pulls at the vein with his powerful mouth. Shit its like a goddamn vacuum cleaner. I think I'd like it if he left a mark, like it so much I'll cum if he bites any harder. The parents wouldn't be too happy but fuck them.

Before he's been there long enough for that darkness to remain he lifts his broad chest away from me again to fumble in the front seat. Oh for crying out loud I don't care about your clinical letters! Just let me feel _it _without all this stupid clothing in the way. Whip it out! My mouth is watering as I look down and almost weep. His jeans are tented and oh god the length of it runs further down his leg than I remember. It's so big, so disproportionately big – it's a monumental fuck tool and it's going to be inside me. Soon. The other suckers in the Notre Dame locker room must hate it when they see him shower. That baby is made for woman pleasuring and I'm the one who is going to receive it all.

I take a breath, trying to help my pounding heart which feels like it's about to leave my chest. I try to be rational and in his moment of distractedness reach up behind me, feeling along the top of the seat for the release mechanism I've activated many times before. It should be just here somewhere, wait, down a little, ahh! There! I hit a button and the entire back seat jolts, folding down until it's flat and my fucking gorgeous once-again lover is hovering over me on a more usable bed rather than his back seat.

A whole tape of condom wrappers falls from his hand and he grins down at me in amazement.

"You are so damn perfect, you know that?"

He tears one wrapper off with his ripping teeth and a sexy growl. The rest fall to the floor. Freaking _hot _you sexy beast of a man!

"Oh I know," I smugly reach for his sweater and push it up. "Come here gorgeous."

He very helpfully raises his buff arms, letting me pull the tight sweater and collared shirt over his head. My pupils dilate and my nostrils flare. Muscles. Defined, powerful, masculine muscles and nothing else. Stretching his pale, perfect skin. Everywhere. So translucent I can see blue veins spidering just beneath. Hot. Damn! Merry Christmas Rosalie!

"Speaking of perfect," I murmur distractedly.

I reach up and trace the bulging lines of tissue. They're hard. All of them. He actually shivers, covering one of my hands and for a moment that finger is surrounded in his radiating fire. I'm not sure if he means to stop me or encourage me. In the end he presses me back down with his overbearing weight and starts sucking on my neck again.

I'm a freak because I love it. His heavy body, his burning skin, his hard mouth. My eyes roll back and I shudder uncontrollably.

"Jeez. Emmett, baby," I hiss.

He knows exactly what he's doing to me. He swirls his skilled tongue around the sensitive skin on the side of my neck, holding me still so I can't squirm away. Not that I'd want to.

"Hold this," he presses the package into my hand.

Then he gets on his knees and starts fiddling with his belt. I look down at the belt, then below, and I whimper. My eyes bulge in their sockets. I can only think one word – _please_. Give it to me, let me have it, let me take and worship and conquer.

I'm a very giving person, just so you know. I thoughtfully reach up to help, but I can't resist and like a planet trapped in a gravity well I'm sucked in. I blindly caress the full bulge in wonder, absently flicking the button free of its hole. I felt Dimitri's hard on against my stomach when we made out so I now have absolute confirmation – Emmett is way above average. In fact he's off the bell curve. In size, and width, and if he were a rock he'd be a diamond it's that bloody hard. And ok I didn't actually lay eyes on Dimitri's but Emmett's is flawless too and I'm sure that's not normal. To have all the pale beautiful skin stretched so perfectly over the top.

No wonder so many hos were clambering to get a piece. I'm gonna have to fight their slutty mouths off to keep it pristine.

I'm in an inescapable trance, drawing down the zipper, teeth groaning as they part under the strain of the raging appendage. Then I sigh with happiness when he pushes his jeans and boxers down to hurry me along.

It's gorgeous. This round, fat mushroom head that's all plump and swollen and begs to be licked. That's only the top of a long, white shaft backed by heavy, full balls with a pair of hips behind it all that know how to exert control over the immense tool.

I'm so busy admiring the essence of his maleness that I don't have time to be self-conscious. He pushes my dress up over my head and I barely even notice.

His erection is bouncing with pumping blood and I want nothing more than to sink onto it. There is actually moisture gathering, behind my molars and hidden between my thighs. If it were possible, my nipples would burst with milk – dear _god _how I want that thing!

Emmett has turned into a perfect freaking teenage sex god. He already had the cock of a porn star but now he has the body of an NFL player to surround the worship-worthy appendage. In the meantime I've gotten soft around the edges and for a flash, I feel a little self-conscious. For about three seconds that is. Then he oh-so-helpfully removes my bra, licks his lips and says in the huskiest voice I have ever heard

"Just what the doctor ordered."

I laugh. If anything is going to break the building tension it had to be one of his silly remarks.

I see him grinning too. Then he bends down.

"Take two before bedtime."

He licks my nipple and I arch. It almost springs back as his tongue runs away.

"AHHh!" I cry out.

I reach down and press my clitoris, completely unaware of anything but my skin as he gently sucks to finish off.

OH wow. Wow wow wow. I forgot how hot damn good that feels.

He swaps and takes the other one between his lips. Emmett is mauling me with mouth and hands like a love-starved vampire and I'm helping him! Begging for more of his talented mouth and his gorgeous big hands and just more.

"Cherry flavoured is best but you can make do with strawberries," he nips the very tip of my nipple "and cream," this time I do get a love bite – on the underside of my milky white breast.

I watch him do it and grunt as he comes away leaving a super-obvious dark purple mark. It looks like I've been blooded by an animal. I press my clit again, the wild sexy beast has me in his lair and all I want is for him to ravage me.

That cesspool of hormones settles against my thigh and his furnace-hot body lands on mine. Sweet mother of all that is good he is so _big_. His temperature is through the roof and it's like being covered by molten honey.

There's only one thing to explain how overwhelmed I am. I'm in love. I have that chemical imbalance in my brain or whatever they think it is. And I have it bad. Because I'm absolutely ready for him, no more warm-up required. All up it can't have been longer than 10 minutes.

"And go to bed. You'll feel better in the morning."

He's still babbling? Right. Enough is enough. I take the protection from its package and confidently reach between his straining thighs. He's not wet like me but he's hot. Oh so hot.

Emmett peers down and watches intently as I encase his glorious cock in the super-size rubber. A few decades ago we wouldn't have been able to do this. There would be no body relieving release, no ecstasy of joining, just the possibility of being a college-dropout-teenage-mom. I'm so glad I grew up after they started teaching this crap in schools. How did olden-time people stand it?

"Come here bad boy," I coax the swollen sucker.

He thrusts into my hand, pathetically begging "don't tease baby," as I make sure he's all riled up and ready to sat-is-fy. He is. He's hard. I mean he's really really hard. I release it and wrap my legs around him.

"Alright then, go ahead," I only need to give permission.

He fumbles briefly but recovers. Then the massively swollen head starts sliding inside me. I suddenly clench and my eyes shoot open in stunned surprise.

"God honey, wait a second," I pant, sinking my nails into his forearms.

**Emmett POV**

"What's wrong?" I pant, trying to catch my breath and hold steady.

I brace myself and try to keep still. It's really fucking difficult because it's been months and it's _Rosalie_. Even barely inside her it's already completely different to the others. This must be the distinction between sexing and loving because I am physically trembling with the effort. It aches to hold back. I just want to be inside her and my body is screaming out for me to push forward. I need it. My skin feels like little ants are crawling all over – I'm desperate to shove inside and finish the deed.

"You're big," she succinctly whimpers.

Do you know what it's like to hear that when you're already on the verge of bursting? With the sweet torture of her fingers digging into me only jeering me on? I almost bite my tongue, I want to thrust so bad.

"It's just been awhile," she says softly, squirming with an uncomfortable look on her face.

It's that single wince that gives me the strength to hold on. And also confirms this is definitely love. With my body raging at me, I know I don't want to hurt her. I want to make her feel as good as she's doing for me. I want this to happen again and again. I suck in a deep breath, lift my trembling fingers and force myself to lightly brush over her cheek.

I wait another beat then squeeze my eyes shut and reject everything that's going on inside me. I tentatively offer "I can pull out. We don't have to –"

"No!" she cuts me off and her legs squeeze tight around my waist.

"I _want _to," she assures me. "Just wait a few more seconds, ok baby?"

Hallelujah! Yes! Yes sweet Jesus I can wait a few more seconds. Just hold steady and focus on something else. I start counting backwards from sixty, hoping like hell that her few seconds is less than a minute.

After that I'm done for.

She takes her fingernails out of my arm, and in a complete turn about, she starts stroking my skin gently. I look down at my wrist, where she's tracing the bones that stick out.

"Call me 'baby' again," I demand, watching her blood-red fingernails move.

Because I love these ridiculous nicknames she throws out at me. If I can focus on her voice, and what she's saying, maybe I can hold on.

"Nah-uh. Not until you move again, stud."

I look up and see she's not kidding. Thank the Lord! I positively beam at her and do just as instructed. Push in a little deeper. I could go out to stud with how badly my balls are aching.

I go as slow as I can, carefully watching her face for further signs to stop. Though what I'd do if she cried out again I don't know. Luckily no more complaints are forthcoming. And I want to cry like a baby when I settle against her. Reality settles over me.

I don't have to move anymore because I'm all the way in.

"Ok, gorgeous?" I ask hesitantly.

She _seems _ok. Her clear eyes are gazing up at me with wide, darkened centres. For a moment I get lost in them: the past, present and future washes over me. That wave isn't a rider, it's a dumper and I shudder to keep my head – I can't cope with the physical sensation and process that much emotional realisation at the same time.

My body is too overwhelming, so I struggle to return to the here and now. Shaking, I reach down and stroke her long thigh, admiring the way it wraps around my waist. It's smooth, gloriously warm naked Rosalie and my palm catches on fire with the sensation.

I wish I could go back in time a month and tell myself that it would be ok. That come Christmas I would be balls-deep in Rosalie at her most-goddess-like. That I didn't have to go all emo in a I'll-never-be-in-love-again depression spiral.

"I'm just fine," she purrs.

Ending my mind's involvement in this coupling by completely booting it out of the arena. From here on in it's all senses firing.

She wiggles and kisses me. A slow, passionate kiss while she starts rolling around underneath me. My woman is enjoying me inside her. She's a fucking sexy kama-sutra queen and I worship at her temple.

"God Em that feels so good," she whispers between kisses.

Holy hell it was bad before, does she know what she does to me when she calls me Em? I roll my hips into her, relishing her feasting on my mouth. Cupping my jaw and rubbing the underside with her possessive fingers. Good doesn't begin to cover how it feels.

"Mmmm hmm," I thoroughly agree.

My heart is going to pound out of my chest. Seriously, the abundance of skin-to-skin contact is too much to process and the flow of oxygen can't keep up. I get a mental flash of the last time we made love, in August, and it's a physical pain in my chest. I don't think I can go without again – exist in that surety that she isn't mine.

"You can date anyone you want to but you have to let me be with you," I whimper, thrusting hard.

Abusing her hot mouth. Thrusting over her wet tongue. Sucking the sweet taste out of her mouth and hoping I never have to live without it again.

"Yes," she murmurs between frantic kisses. "Together, promise. Need to have you. Harder. Now. Please."

She is sucking me so goddamn deep into her body and once I'm there she barely lets me go. I'm lost. I don't exist. I am my cock inside her pussy and nothing else. Even air no longer has a use to me. Except to say

"Fuck babe."

Not very eloquent I know but I'm past the point of no return. I do as my lady demands and thrust harder. I'm a teenager and I've been keyed up for hours. Suffice to say it doesn't take long.

It's sick, but that first cum inside Rosalie after four months? Fucking blissful.

Hearing my name catch in her throat and then come out in soft, steady whimpers is even better. That's a memory-burner. And I'm going to hear it in my dreams for months to come, I know it.

I hold myself up on my elbows and hover over her, watching. Studying. Her stunned orgasm face is fucking beautiful, and it only takes small movements of my hips to keep it rolling across her. I'm depraved and sick, and I don't let her come down. I fuck harder. Screw her into the seat so that all those delicious pussy juices grind into the fabric. My car is going to be scented with her sex for weeks to come. She finally bucks and then goes limp.

When we're done we clean up in an oddly gross ending to the most romantic coupling I've ever taken part in. I remove the condom and hastily toss it into a bag of other trash. Then I take the stupid stiff shirt my Dad made me wear and wipe the leftover cum off my cock. Luckily Rose can be incredibly practical in her weaker moments and just rubs my thigh gently, reminding me she's here while I finish up.

Finally I can relax. I stretch out on my back, reach behind us and grab some items I stashed earlier. Rosalie laughs when she catches sight of the pillow and thick, puffy blanket.

"Plan to be here awhile did you?"

"Yep!"

The fucking plan is completed, now for the other not-so-objectionable part. I stuff the pillow under my own head and pull her down. She settles on my chest in a post-sex cuddle the likes of which I haven't seen in months. I close my eyes and breathe. Just breathe. Because finally I can take a lungful of air, blow it out, and completely relax.

She's perfectly made for me. The evidence is there in that she knows exactly what to do. She snuggles up under my chin of her own free will, and lets me fold my arms around her. My skin gets all tingly in a gooey, fulfilled happiness way, responding to the soft covering of her body. Then she tucks the blanket around us and we're all warm and naked. Together. Rosalie wrapped around me. Me wrapped around Rosalie. God damn heaven.

"I've missed you so much," she tangles our fingers together.

I squeeze back strongly.

"Missed you too," I say softly, running my lips over her hairline.

It's the understatement of the century. _Missed _doesn't begin to cover it. I lie still. Holding her. Wondering how long we can stay here. Twelve hours? Twenty-four? It won't be enough, however long it is.

"This is the best Christmas present ever," I realise.

"Better than Christmas," she adds. "More like it's my birthday, because I don't have to share any of my _presents_."

She rubs my chest to make it clear I'm a present. I'm gonna need some time to physically recover before we can go round two. Let me be perfectly clear though, there will be a round two. And three. And more after that.

Since I am in recovery mode, we lie in silence for a while, just touching each other. Finally I have enough strength to speak again, and I do what I've been looking forward to. I catch her up on my life.

"So there's this guy, he's on the football team with me and he's my neighbour. Guess what his name is?"

**Rosalie POV**

Now that I have the time to explore without the pain of lust lancing through me, I trace my finger over the serious bicep he's acquired. It strikes me as beautiful now, more so than hot. The line of the arm muscle, bulging without being obscene is so smooth. He's twirling strands of my hair around his fingers which is so very soothing. It affects my breathing though, and every brush of my hair against my naked back as he slips it free makes me shiver. Which is why I'm trying to concentrate on his over-developed muscle. I bet he could pick me up if he tried.

I do want to know about his new friends though. I can't think of a reason why I'd know his friend's name.

"What?" I play along.

I'm just content to hear his voice.

"Edward _Cullen_. How weird is that?"

I pause.

"That is strange," I agree. "Your family are the only 'Cullen's I've ever met."

I run my finger all the way down to his wrist where the leather wrist cuff sporting his family crest sits comfortably. It was a high school graduation present from his parents. I secretly resent it for stating that his family is more important than anything. Their opinion of _me _as a suitable partner for him is a big fat no, so I take this particular gift as a personal insult. Not that I've told him that. I ignore it and move on, continuing to his huge fingers.

"What are the odds that you end up playing with someone who has the same name? How do they even differentiate your jerseys? It's not like they can write E Cullen on the back."

"Exactly!"

He sounds like he's been trying to get someone to agree with him on that point for weeks.

"And he's in the room next door in the dorms and half my classes."

"Maybe he's your stalker."

The bicep I was playing with comes up to smother me to his chest.

"See, I knew you'd get it. My Mom and Alice could only rustle up a 'Hmmmm' between them."

An understated feeling of warmth stirs and then resettles within me as his lips rest on the crown of my head.

"My Rosie," is all he says.

I appreciate being loved – it's been sorely lacking since we split.

"My Emmie," I teasingly say back.

He laughs, god I love his laugh, and clutches me close.

"Babe we're gonna keep doin' this, right? I mean, figure some sneaky shit out so we can be together?"

I nod, not brave enough to turn and look into his eyes. Instead I press my nose into his chest and inhale.

"I really missed you this semester."

"Good. I missed you too," he announces confidently.

Just like that our true separation is over, and our faux separation begins.


End file.
